


No rain, no flowers

by villannelle



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, F/F, Im sorry I can't help myself, Moira is turning Amèlie into Widowmaker, Stabbing, a lot of crying, sadness and sorrow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 12:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14057010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/villannelle/pseuds/villannelle
Summary: Forget all the things you’ve heard from these morons on the past. Let me, Widowmaker, share with you the story of the day I escaped Talon’s grip and the time I spent on my own, free of all of Talon’s influence, free to do whatever I wanted.And why I chose to come back.





	No rain, no flowers

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place after Gérard's murder, when Moira is experimenting on Amèlie to turn her into Widowmaker, but she's not quite there yet.

Everyone’s had a chance to share their opinion about her. Talon’s most lethal soldier, the most wanted sniper all around the globe: Widowmaker. But, how many of them can say they really know her? How can they speak so openly, so firmly about someone they can’t understand? Why do they feel like they can state their ideas as if they were facts?

Whatever the answer is to any of these questions, today you’re going to hear the story from a different, more reliable source. One you’ve never heard before. Forget all the things you’ve heard from these morons on the past. Let me, Widowmaker, share with you the story of the day I escaped Talon’s grip and the time I spent on my own, free of all of Talon’s influence, free to do whatever I wanted.

And why I chose to come back.

***

It’s cold. This room is always cold. The air smells of latex and chemicals, I’m sure in years I’ll still be able to smell it if I close my eyes and try hard enough to remember. Not that I would ever want to, of course.

Doors creaked outside and footsteps rushed towards and away from the door that leads to the room I’m sitting in. Everyone ran away from me as soon as I entered the facilities, something I can’t blame them for. The day I escaped this place two people died, so I wouldn’t be too happy to see me either. It wasn’t my fault though; they were the only thing standing between me and her.

And I needed to see her, no matter what.

I needed to tell her that I was sorry, that I didn’t want to do what I did. That it wasn’t me- or maybe it was. Who am I anymore? I lean forward and hold my head in my hands, shutting my eyes closed. My fingers dig deep into my hairline moving down to my neck and I just stay there, curled up in silence, remembering the events of the last hours.

Getting rid of the nurses was the easiest part; I just had to pretend I was sleeping and as soon as they released my cuffs I kicked them both away from me and ran to the door. Moira’s experiments had given me incredibly quick reflexes, but not super strength. I couldn’t get the door open without the keys, and since one of the nurses wouldn’t hand them over after struggling with me for a few seconds, I had to get rid of him. I didn’t want to, but he was standing in my way. And there was no way I could go another day without news of her. She was all that I had left, all that kept me from going absolutely insane in that hellhole that people dared to call a laboratory.

Snapping his neck was way easier than I thought. Just a quick movement of the hands in the right direction and… done. He dropped lifeless to the floor. I turned around the face the other nurse, who was now backing up with his arms up front. I will admit, I didn’t have a logic reason to kill him too. But I didn’t feel like I needed it at the time. It wasn’t rage what brought me to grab the scalpel and bury it into his neck. It was something different, way deeper, that I don’t want to get into. Even now, it scares me to think about it.

Anyway, once all my distractions were gone all I had to do was open the door. Now covered in the blood that spurred out of the last nurse’s neck, everyone ran away at the sight of me. We were in a small facility underground where Talon conducted the most dangerous of their experiments. One of them being me. Getting out wasn’t that hard either. When I think of it, I realize she must’ve known I could run away without that much of a hassle. She just thought I wouldn’t want to. It makes me sad and angry to realize that she knows me better than I know myself.

The hardest part was finding her. Angela Ziegler… Overwatch’s doctor, the most passionate woman I’ve ever met. She’s amazing at what she does, and she knows it. Maybe that’s what got my attention the most, or maybe it was just that she was there to pay me company when my husband stopped caring about our relationship. Whatever the reason was, our meetings went from strictly friendly to something more in a matter of months. We started sharing glasses of wine and lonely nights, and eventually she became one of the most important persons in my life. I loved my husband, I still do. But she was there for me when he wasn’t, and I still blame myself for not giving back as much in return. Looking back it’s clear that she sacrificed way more for me than I did for her, and there’s nothing I regret more in life than not telling her that. I thought that would be my chance to do so, but I would soon find out how wrong I was.

I had to track down the latest articles about her, task that resulted way easier than I expected thanks to Overwatch’s presence on the news. You couldn’t avoid them even if you wanted to, especially after what they made me do to Gérard. That gave the media something to write about.

Having to watch her from a distance was more painful than I imagined, but what was I supposed to do? I hadn’t planned anything besides getting to see her. Should I just approach her? What would I even say? I knew I would talk to her eventually, I just didn’t know when or how.

Sadly, I never got the chance to do so. I had broken into an empty apartment to watch her from a balcony, and obviously someone eventually entered. The sound of the door startled me and my body reacted before my mind even told it what to do. I ran to hide behind a couch, leaving the balcony door open. A man in his sixties entered the room, clearly confused when he saw the balcony door wide open.

And right there, I had a choice.

I could’ve easily sneaked past him. He was old and slow, it looked like he couldn’t see too well. He probably wouldn’t have even heard me, and even if he did I would’ve been out of his sight before he could turn around.

But I didn’t. I didn’t walk away. In a matter of seconds, right as his hand touched the handle of the balcony door, I jumped over the couch and dug the scalpel I’d stolen from the lab into his back. Once. And twice. And then three, four and five times. The man didn’t even scream, he just gasped and reached back trying to grab my face for a second before his arm fell limp next to him.

The realization of what I’ve just done came to me just after holding his dead body for a few seconds. I instantly dropped him and stepped back, staring at my now blood covered shirt. Why had I done that? What drove me to do it? He was harmless, defenseless… What had I become?

There’s something inside me now, and it’s way beyond my control. An instinct, a thirst that can’t be quenched with anything besides cold blooded murder. I still remember the rush of adrenaline when I felt the last breath leave that man’s body while I held him between my arms. It was terrifying, amazing, scary and the most delightful feeling I have memory of all at the same time.

That’s when I realized I couldn’t go to her. It was too dangerous. What if this killer that lived inside me now wanted to hurt her? I felt all the strength leave my legs as I stumbled towards the balcony, the memory of what I’d just done keeping me alert, and I look at Angela again. She was talking to someone, smiling and laughing. She looked happy, who was I to take that away from her again? I’d already done it once I’m sure, when Talon first abducted me. And then when I left after murdering Gérard. I’d been nothing but selfish during our relationship, it’s time to stop. Thinking back now, I also would prefer to hurt one thousand other people if that meant not having to ever hurt Angela.

And that’s what I’m waiting to tell Moira now as I wait on her laboratory. I’m sure they will warn her that I’m here. I wasn’t scared to come back because I know they wouldn’t dare hurt me. I’ve tested their limits before, and I’ve realized just how valuable I am to them. Moira would kill anyone that put me in danger.

The door next to me opens and I raise my head, my shirt still completely covered in the blood of the man I’ve killed just hours ago. My eyes are wet, full of tears, but I don’t let them spill. Never in front of her. She doesn’t seem scared like everyone else did when I walked in; there’s actually a wide smile on her face. I hate that smile, and I fucking hate her. My hands grip my knees violently as my eyes travel to the hand she has inside of her pocket. I assume she’s holding one of those syringes she uses to calm me down when I get too violent.

“You’re back.” Is all she says, making her way slowly to the seat next to me. I can feel her eyes fixed on my face even now as I look right in front of me. I don’t know what to say, and she knows it. She always knows everything.

Still, she doesn’t say anything else. Her hand moves up to stroke one of my long strands of hair. I feel a shiver run down my spine but I don’t move away. I’ve been through too much. Once someone does to you what these people have done to me you stop caring about these stupid and condescending gestures. Moira loves to feel superior to me, she thinks she owns me. I’m not sure myself she’s wrong anymore.

“I can’t leave.” I whisper, not really to her, or to anyone for that matter. I just need to voice it out loud. Still, Moira replies.

“Why?” She’s still stroking my hair, her face close enough to mine for me to feel her warm breath against my left cheek. I’m still facing forward. I know she’s asking out of curiosity, she always wants to know what’s going on through my brain. That’s all I am to her. An experiment. The steps to my evolution are written down on a document like I’m a rat trying to go through a maze to get to the cheese.

What’s my cheese, though? What keeps me moving forward? I feel no hope, I feel no excitement. All I feel is remorse. And even that sensation is already slowly fading away and turning into a blurry memory.

“Why, Widowmaker.” Moira repeats herself when I don’t answer her question the first time.

Widowmaker. I’ve heard them call me that many times before, but it still doesn’t feel like she’s talking to me when Moira says it. I’m not Widowmaker. I’m not Amèlie either. I don’t even feel like a person anymore, I feel more like a weapon. Sometimes I try to think; what makes me who I am? What defines me? There’s no before to me, and no after. Everyday I’m a different person than I was the day before and Moira digs through my brain and plays around like I’m just a puppet, another element that has to play the part in her twisted games. There’s no reason for me to keep going, but no reason to go either.

“I can’t control myself.” I swallow. Voicing that thought is way more defeating than I’d thought, and now I can’t control the tears as they finally leave my eyes and run down my cheeks. But I don’t sob, and my voice never trembles. “I don’t want to kill her.”

She moves closer to me, seemingly pleased with my answer, and puts her arm around my shoulders. She brings me closer and now my head rests on her shoulder. I can feel her medical gown get wet from my tears. I don’ say anything. This doesn’t make me feel any better, this feels awfully wrong. I don’t want her to hug me, I hate her. I fucking despise her with everything in me. But I can’t defeat her. She made me. I’m hers.

“You don’t have to if you stay here with me. I can take care of you, you’re not finished yet, I promise you will be better.” It’s like she’s talking about a car that’s missing a headlight, or a table missing a leg. I’m a thing that must be fixed. Her long nails slowly run up and down my naked arm, caressing me. It feels like five knifes threatening to stab me anytime.

“I will stay.” I say, defeated. I’d already given up before walking in, but it feels like now I’m completely surrendering the little control I had over myself. “Under two conditions.”

She doesn’t have to accept. I’m here, she can just stab me with that brutal tranquilizer she always uses on me and I won’t be able to leave. But I’ve come to know Moira. She’s too conceited to give up the chance I’m giving her. I’m choosing to stay, and I know that will fuel her ego even more.

“What it then?” As I expected, she’s interested. I swallow again before speaking.

“You can’t make me hurt her.” My eyes are still fixated on the wall in front of me, as my head rests against her shoulder. She’s still rubbing my arm even as I speak. “Doctor Ziegler. Anyone else, but not her.”

Her hand stops moving now, frozen on my right arm, and after a few minutes of silence she lets out a chuckle. Her chest raises and falls for a moment and my head slightly bumps against it. Moving her hands to my shoulders she now moves my body away from hers so she can look at me. Her robe is wet from tears and fresh blood in different places, but she clearly couldn’t care less. That wide, terrible smile is still on her face as she holds my face and runs her thumbs over my cheeks like I’m just a little kid she’s comforting.

“Oh Angela, Angela. What a piece of work she is.” Her long fingers make their way to my neck where she moves them in slow circles. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t want you to hurt her anyway. She’s too special for something as simple as that, isn’t she?”

“And,” I don’t care what she means as long as she accepts my proposal, so I just move on to the next condition. “I don’t want to feel any of this. I want it all to go away.” I have no clue of what the logistics of this are. I don’t know how possible or impossible it is. I’m not even sure what exactly I’m asking for, but I do know that if anyone can do it that’s Moira. “I don’t want the fear, I don’t want the regret. I will do whatever you want as long as I can’t feel it.”

Looking into her eyes I can tell she’s analyzing me. I feel like a caged animal in a zoo; she has that look on her eyes full of hunger for more. More knowledge, more chances to understand what’s happening in my brain. I couldn’t explain it to her if I wanted to: I don’t even know what’s going on in my head myself.

Eventually Moira moves her hands away from me, standing up.

“Very well.” She continues, making her way towards a bed that I know far too well at this point. “I promise you.” Moira says, undoing the shackles that usually hold my wrists and ankles when I lay there. Turning to face me again, she gestures towards it and smiles, her free hand still on her pocket surely still holding that syringe. “Why waste any more time? Shall we?”

I get up and join her, for the first time laying on that bed out of free will. She straps my wrists and ankles to it and I shiver, looking up at the ceiling for a second before closing my eyes.

As a liquid slowly drips into the IV now connected to my arm, I come to the realization that this is surely the last time I’m this version of me. I don’t know what I’m going to think when I wake up next, I don’t know what I will remember or what I will feel if I feel anything at all. All I can do is trust Moira, and my eyes flutter open just for a moment to catch the sigh of her looking down on me, smiling and putting on her gloves on, before I fall into a deep sleep that I will never wake up from. It will not be me that wakes up in this body in a few hours, maybe even a few days, and at this point I’m finally at peace with that thought.

All I can do now is trust Moira’s word.

***

I know why that and Gérard’s murder are the clearest memories I have. She made it that way. She wants me to remember what I’ve done and why I’m here. Why I chose to stay and why I don’t want to leave.

So far, she’s kept her promise. Talon has never sent me on a mission to hurt Angela, and even though I don’t feel towards her what I felt when I asked Moira to make that promise, I feel the need to honor the wishes of person that asked for it, that version of me. She had a reason, and it’s something I will respect. It’s one of the very few things that give me a sense of purpose, and it’s not something I want to give up.

And I’m sure at this point you’re wondering, what about the feeling part? Did Moira keep that promise? Are those people, with all their stupid senseless theories, actually right? I feel like I’ve said too much for today. I guess you’ll have to keep wondering for now. If you take something away from this, just know that at one point I cared. And it’s brought me nothing but pain.

We’re told spiders feel no emotion, that their hearts never beat. But I know the truth.

Do you?

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this lil thing! It was inspired by Jessica Jones season 2 chapter 8.
> 
> I have more Mercymaker content on my profile if you're interested as well, I have an ongoing work at the moment.
> 
> Don't forget to leave kudos if you liked please, and comments are always appreciated!


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